


sugar veins

by oodal (softkyun)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Corruption, M/M, bathroom blowjob, daichi in leather, dance club, public oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4265748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softkyun/pseuds/oodal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Daichi is a simple man, and Hajime knows how to educate said simple man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sugar veins

**Author's Note:**

> here's another fill that i wrote for saso... sweats... this one was prompted with the following: 
> 
> Iwaizumi/Sawamura, Haikyuu!!
> 
> If corruption was candy I'd   
> suck the sugar from your veins  
> and beg for more.
> 
> -tempt by silkshines

As they finish the cooldown, Daichi attempts to make a bolt for it (well, really, he just tries to leave earlier than an hour after practice ends) and takes a step towards the locker room, but he doesn't make it more than that when he hears Hinata's voice behind him.

"Captain, please do extra practice with me!! Kageyama said my receives were shitty!!"

Trying not to exhale heavily, Daichi fixes his face into a smile as he turns to the little jumping bean that has grown near and dear to his heart.

"First off, your receives are not shitty, and Kageyama needs to stop having a filthy mouth when I know he kisses his mother with the same later--"

"He kisses his mama with his mouth?"

".. What else would he kiss her with, Hinata?"

"Ooooh... Gotcha! Anyways, I can still practice! I can always get better!"

Daichi is smitten with his excited tone, and his brain floods with the fond memories of his first years, of long nights in the gym with Asahi and Koushi. He wants to say yes, he really does, but,

"I've got plans tonight, Hinata. I'm sorry. I can't stay late. Did you ask Nishinoya about helping you out?" 

"I'm gonna go ask!! Have a great Friday, captain!"

Hinata is gone before Daichi can thank him, and fortunately, Suga is nowhere to be seen, or else Daichi would be facing a serious round of questioning from the other. This might be the first time he's escaped Suga's radar in months, but he isn't about to question it or stick around to tempt his luck, so he slips into the locker room, changes, and heads home with a steadily increasing heartbeat and a nervous tightness to his chest.

\---

He gets the text when he's getting out of shower, a mere couple of words that have Daichi's mouth growing a little dry.

'Be there in 10. I've got clothes for you.'

\---

"... I can't wear that, Hajime." Daichi's voice hitches as he protests, and he looks at Hajime, who is currently laying on his stomach on Daichi's bed.

"Honestly, Daichi. I told you I was taking you to a club? You can't wear khaki pants and a button-down to a club, no matter what your grandmother told you."

Daichi splutters indignantly, because between Hajime's teasing lilt and the feeling of the skin-tight leather pants stretched across his thighs, his brain is all but functioning. To be fair, however, Hajime feels similarly; he knew they'd be nice, but he hadn't expected them to look like this.

"Daichi..." Hajime pauses, sitting up and shifting onto his butt to reach for Daichi's hand. He pulls the other towards him, tugging him down to kiss him on the lips, brief but purposeful. He has always loved the way that Daichi fits against him. Tooru told him that this relationship was like trying to stick two rocks together in a bed, and telling them to cuddle; neither was capable of doing it. But fortunately for the pair of them, Hajime found that Daichi's lips, among with many other body parts, were nothing short of perfect against him. 

"I wouldn't tell you to wear them if I didn't think they looked good." Hajime attempted to reassure Daichi, who looked rather like an old man putting on a pair of jeans instead of dress slacks for the first time in his life.

"It's not like I need them, I don't need anyone to look at me... It's like I'm not even wearing pants." Daichi splutters, feeling like the way that the leather snuggles up against his crotch, or the way that it makes his ass feel like two puppies fighting under a blanket deserves an explicit rating. 

"I know you don't need them. But... I do like to look at you in them. And isn't tonight about us?"

Daichi sighs slowly, and plops down besides Hajime.

"Where did you even get these pants, anyways? Are you even shopping in safe stores?"

Hajime snorts, the laughter quiet, and nudges Daichi's cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's say I got them from a place that was personally recommended by Tooru."

Daichi's laughter, as the unease melts away and is replaced by amusement, is enough to reassure Hajime he's on the right track.

\---

"I don't think I can do this."

Hajime looks over at Daichi, and thinks to himself not for the first time that he is a blessed man. Between the leather pants and the heather-gray wife-beater, and the black combat boots that Hajime briefly thinks about being stepped on with, Daichi is a picture of perfection. He takes his hand to lead him onto the dance floor, to drag him into the masses of the drunk, the high, the who-knows, to dance.

Daichi fidgets at first; he feels like a fish out of water. He feels like he's older than he is. He aches for the familiar comfort of his couch and the movie channel. That's his usual Friday routine, but the thing about Hajime was that he refused to let Daichi stick to his same old. He told him that his routine was boring, and thus he mixed it up with simple things. Who heard of pineapple on a pizza, anyways? And beers on Tuesday nights? Who even knew that the club really went up on a Tuesday?

If he was being honest, Daichi didn't even really know that clubs went up on Fridays.

But here he is, his hand in Hajime's, standing in the middle of a mob that is doing nothing but grinding and sweating. His heartbeat picks up, and he flushes, and Hajime closes the space in between them with the small smirk that catches Daichi off guard every single time.

"Just feel the music, Daichi. And if you can't... feel me, and I'll guide you."

Hajime releases Daichi's hand, running a hand over Daichi's exposed bicep, and then moving his arms to clasp behind Daichi's neck. He begins to move; it's slow at first, and then he begins to grind without shame against Daichi's leathered crotch.

"Daichi, relax. You think I'd do this where someone was really paying attention?" Hajime soothes him, and as the song begins to end, he feels Daichi begin to move against him.

He listens to the bass, feels the vibrations beneath his feet travel up to his heart, and the warmth that's beginning to build isn't only from the heat of the crowd surrounding them. Hajime's fingers scrabble against the back of Daichi's neck, and then his fingers are in the other's short hair, nails digging into his scalp.

"Fuck, Daichi," He moans, because who knew that Daichi's hips really worked this way when he wanted them to? Daichi's into it now, as if he would ever do anything half-hearted, and his hands drop to Hajime's ass, groping needily as he finds himself desperately horny in a public place. The reminder that he's in a public place has an unexpected effect, because Daichi's chest tightens and he suddenly feels far more sensitive than he should.

"Hajime," Daichi breathes, pressing impossibly tighter to Hajime and shifting to kiss him. He presses their lips together so hard that he feels their teeth clink, and Hajime gasps in such a way that Daichi feels like he is breathing the air straight from Hajime's lungs (even when his brain tells him that it's technically carbon dioxide, he shouldn't breathe that in). His hands tighten against Hajime's ass, and Hajime bucks into him, and Daichi has to pull his head back because he can't breathe. He's forgotten how to when he kisses Hajime.

"I have to go to the bathroom." Hajime whispers, and Daichi blanches.

"... Don't leave me on dance floor alone?" 

"Come with me, meathead."

With that, Hajime kisses him, and Daichi is about to break the kiss and ask how they were going to get to the bathroom like that, but then Hajime is still tugging him off the main floor, without breaking the seal around their lips. He's got one hand around the back of Daichi's head, keeping their lips locked, and the other has started to move from Daichi's hair down to the dangerous area of his hips, and then to his front, toying with his zipper.

Daichi doesn't know why he's doing this, but if he tries to get his hand to Hajime's, they'll fall - right now, it's Daichi's blind hand along the wall that's keeping them steady, and somehow, someway, no one has kicked them out for public indecency yet. It's by a miracle of some higher power that Daichi hears the flush of a toilet, and somehow they're stumbling into the swinging door of the bathroom.

Hajime's grinning now into the kiss, and although Daichi can most likely feel it, Hajime doubts he knows what it's for.

The two other people in the bathroom are blind drunk, and as Hajime pulls away, he struggles to breathe properly. His chest heaves. 

"Come into the stall with me?"

Daichi's so erect he can't walk properly, but he nods his assent. Hajime's entire body tingles with the sight of Daichi's raging hard on, because he knows how to take care of that, even if Daichi is still clueless.

"Why am I...?" He begins, but as soon as they get into the stall (Hajime considers it a sign of fate that the handicapped stall is open), Hajime is kissing him, pressing him so hard against the grimy plastic that the stall shakes. He spares no time in moving his hands to the exposed skin of Daichi's broad shoulders, scraping his nails across the flesh there, leaving red tracks in his wake. Daichi hisses, but it fades into a groan as Hajime breaks the kiss in favor of sucking a hickey in the dip of Daichi's collarbone, smirking against the bone when he pulls away. 

"You're hard, Daichi." He says, and pulls back enough to watch Daichi's face turn redder than the dance floor exertion had already made it. 

"I--- t-the dancing, uhm--"

"But Daichi, we're in public!" Hajime teases in a scandalized tone he regrets picking up from Tooru, the quiet tones of his voice pitched with breathiness and a bit of desperate desire he's trying to hide, to seem like the one in control. 

"I know we are," Daichi replies, and the tightness of his voice is something that sets off a few alarms in Hajime's head. Is he turned on by that? He'd come into the bathroom with a goal - make Daichi come in his pants - but now Hajime wants something else. 

"I can take care of it," He breathes, running his tongue over his lower lip.

Daichi is in shock. He wonders if he hit his head against the stall so hard that he doesn't know what's going on, because he thinks that Hajime just offered to get him off in a public bathroom. Daichi feels dirty just touching the wall, and he can't believe being... undressed, intimate, in the small space Hajime's pulled him into.

Hajime has other plans, because Daichi is distinctively aware of his zipper being undone.

"Hajime!" Daichi gasps as the cold air hits his erection, because Hajime had insisted that he couldn't wear underwear with this get up because of 'underwear lines' (even though Daichi didn't understand why that was such a big problem in the first place). Hajime smirks, and doesn't say a word, bending a little to press his mouth against Daichi's nipples, pert against the ribbed fabric of the shirt that Hajime had picked out.

Daichi's back arches before he can stop that, desperate for a little more contact, far too sensitive as the slightly rough material, damp now, rubs against his almost painfully erect nipples. He moans, and then reaches to put a hand over his mouth, acutely aware of the fact that people could come into the bathroom anytime. Hajime, however, catches the hand, pulling it down and placing it into his own hair. Daichi latches tight enough that Hajime's scalp burns, but he ignores it in favor of going to Daichi's pants, in favor of pulling them down the rest of the way. The leather hits the floor with a satisfyingly soft thud, and Hajime's facial expression doesn't change as he wraps a hand around Daichi's dick.

Daichi full-on yelps in surprise, but then he's moaning, because for all the man's looks, he has no stamina and is far more sensitive than Hajime ever thought he would be. Working his one hand around Daichi's erection, he flicks his thumb over the tip of Daichi's head the way he knows he likes it, and resumes biting at any exposed skin he can get his teeth to. Daichi writhes; he can't manage to escape the sensations that Hajime is offering, and it's becoming almost too much, because he can feel the heat starting to pool in his stomach. The weak thrusting he's been doing into Hajime's hand is starting to grow erratic, and just when he feels like he might cum, Hajime stops.

At the loss of contact as Hajime's hand pulls away, Daichi whines in the back of his throat, and Hajime chuckles that dry, low noise that Daichi has come to love. 

"If you want it, you're gonna have to tell me what you want." Hajime says, and Daichi's eyes, a little dazed, focus on him with effort.

"T-tell you.. Out loud?" Daichi says, his voice rough and gravelly from far too many noises, louder than intended.

"Mmhmm. What's it you say about dinner? 'Tell me what you want or we won't have anything'?" 

"I j-just say that! I would neve--"

"Well, I would..."

Daichi pauses, seems to freeze, the cogs in his head visibly turning (or trying to, at least). His hands fidget at his sides, his knees shake a little, and he glances around the graffitied stall as if it might give him answers. Finally, after an eternity, he looks to Hajime, biting at his lower lip before he runs his tongue across the reddened skin.

"Could you... s-suck... uhm..."

Hajime's eyes widen. He'd just expected Daichi to request the hand-job be finished, but as he thinks about blowing Daichi with those leather pants around his ankles, his heart races even more.

"Suck uhm? Sorry, I don't know what uhm is."

If Daichi had more presence of mind, he might scold Hajime for taking one of his own personal dad jokes - but he is so hard it hurts, so needy and embarrassed and hot and bothered that he says it.

"My, dick."

Hajime drops so quickly that there is a brief moment where Daichi fears that Hajime might have hurt himself, but then he feels Hajime's hands on his hips, pinning him there, and Hajime's mouth around his cock. He feels like a vacuum, as much as that will make Daichi self-conscious of looking at the household appliance for the next few days, and Daichi puts a hand in his hair. He tugs on it, trying to buck his hips even as Hajime pins them, and his free hand searches for some sort of grip and purchase on the wall with little success. One of Hajiime's hands drops to his cock, stocking what he cannot reach with his mouth at the moment (Daichi is so fucking hung, and Hajime thanks his lucky stars, but also, he is human and has a gag reflex), and he's momentarily glad that he's got enough arm strength to keep Daichi's hips where they are. Then again, Daichi isn't quite at full strength.

"H-hajime, I, please..."

He hollows his cheeks out and sucks a little more, watching Daichi thrash against the grimy wall, his head lifting and banging against the stall wall. The movements become crazier as he gets closer, and although Hajime debates pulling away, he doesn't; he ignores Daichi's frantic warnings and keeps his mouth on his boyfriend's cock.

It's a few seconds more until Daichi comes into his mouth, and although Hajime manages to swallow most of it - bitter, even if Daichi keeps eating pineapple in a guilty attempt to make it sweeter - and with a little bit in his mouth, he rises off of his (protesting) knees. Kissing Daichi, he simultaneously holds the other male up, as his knees threaten to buckle beneath him, and slips his tongue into the other's mouth.

He gives it a few seconds to settle in, and as expected, Daichi pulls back, eyes wide. 

"D-did you just..."

"Kiss you with your cum in my mouth, yes."

"I.. shoot... how am I going to remind Kageyama he kisses his mother with his mouth when mine is like... this...?"

The way that Hajime laughs against his chest, throat a little hoarse, tells him that he's just going to have to deal with it. Once the laughter has passed, Hajime presses a kiss to his jaw, and with his lips close enough to still brush against him, he murmurs,

"If you're asking questions like that... guess I've corrupted you, Daichi."


End file.
